Caught
by MissMurdered-and-ELLE
Summary: Set in the same universe as Forever. When Duo is sent on a week-long mission without him, Heero finds a method of coping with his lover's absence. 1x2. PWP-ish.
1. Heero

**Disclaimer:** We still don't own Gundam Wing as if we did, it would've been a _very _different show.

**Pairings/Warnings:** 1x1, 1x2, yaoi, m/m sexual relations of the explicit variety, porn, bad language and hints of angst and sap

**A/N:** Miss M decided that she wanted to write a little smutty something and persuaded ELLE to make this another joint venture in the same world that **_Forever_** was set in. Unusually, we decided to mess around with our usual format and Miss M wrote Heero and ELLE wrote Duo.

Posted again as two chapters but at the same time as they belong together (kinda like Heero and Duo do ;-p)

* * *

**Caught**

**Heero**

The apartment was empty as I knew it would be. I'd been avoiding spending time in it but now it was Friday night and I had no other choice. I'd spent the week of Duo's absence doing extra sessions at the gym, kick boxing and running with Trowa and spending an unnecessary amount of time at the gun range to perfect my already perfect scores. Trowa now had other places to be and I'd already spent an hour at the gym at Preventer HQ before I had arrived home, dropping my bag by the door as I went to shed my uniform and find something to distract myself with.

It was rare that Duo and I were separated on missions. It had long since been established that we refused to work with other partners as I couldn't stand the idea of someone else being his back up and neither could he. I perhaps was too needy at times but I had never had anything to hold onto in my life before Duo so I felt an overwhelming urge to protect him, hold him close to me and stop the stupid asshole from getting himself killed on a semi-regular basis.

At least I knew he was safe, that the mission he was returning from was done, completed successfully and I had seen his face on a vid-screen, pinched and drawn, eyes tired but uninjured, alive and returning home to me.

I hated it when he'd told me that he had been requested on a mission without me, telling me in post-coital haze as he anticipated my response, the way I'd want to storm into Une's office and tell her in no uncertain terms that we worked together on _every_ mission but he gave me no opportunity to do that – told me the night before he was leaving on a six a.m. shuttle in an act that could be called deceit if I did not know better and that he didn't lie. He argued it was an omission of fact rather than anything else and he calmed me down with a trail of kisses across my shoulders, down my spine, until I wanted him again, pinning him to our bed desperately, not providing him any chance to try and reverse positions as I slid into him again, slowly fucking him and putting everything I felt for him into my mouth at his throat, into my hands tracing patterns over his sides, over his nipples, over his fluttering abdominal muscles, into every movement of my hips, deliberate, slow, making him moan and tell me how good I felt as I thrust into him.

He was hours away now but I comforted myself with the fact that he was coming home. To me. The mission successful as I began to strip off my work uniform, jacket discarded, tie undone, shirt unbuttoned, my body tingling subtly as I did so thinking about how he would be here in the morning. The blood in my veins thrummed in anticipation of that and I felt the first stirring of arousal in my gut. I'd ignored any need for release this week despite the fact my body was used to a regular and passionate sex life without restraint, used to fucking before and after missions, at the Preventer offices, in our car, occasionally in public bathrooms and a number of other locations that could've got us arrested for lewd acts and indecent exposure.

I'd worked out at the gym more to try and exhaust myself – tried every damn thing to dampen down my desires – but despite all those years of conditioning and control, just thinking of my lover drenched in sweat, underneath me, in front of me on his knees, on top of me, his hair clinging in wisps around his face was enough to undo all the self-control I had.

I growled in frustration as I knew the feel of my own hand would be inadequate, that it wouldn't be the experience I so desired, neither the hot, wet suction of his mouth nor the intimacy of being deep inside him. I realised when my fantasies were allowed full rein, he was always bottoming for me and while we frequently turned that scenario around, I couldn't help the image of him begging, willing, wanting me, writhing as my dick hit his prostate and he came undone underneath me. My fantasy Duo was considerably less stubborn than the real version and a pale imitation as I liked my fiery partner who gave everything I ever wanted or desired with wild abandon and hard kisses.

My initial thought was to shower as I was now fully hard. I could have my fantasy, remember whichever moment I wanted but my thoughts flittered to another option that I rarely considered. As we had a very active sex life, I rarely felt the need for masturbation unless it was some kind of mutual game between us and then it was usually an act of foreplay for an extended evening of screwing around. And I rarely considered the vast wealth of images and videos that the internet contained.

It was rare for me to be alone in the apartment or not to be with him on a mission. And I could not deny I had some curiosity. We had occasionally watched porn together but found that it quickly got ignored as one of us would be straddling the other and the sounds of our own fucking would be heard over that of the men on screen. I suppose that was the intention of watching it in the first place but I found myself stripping to only my briefs, my erection tenting the front of them as I went in search of my faithful laptop – the same laptop I'd had since the war, a rare moment of sentiment. It had been ripped to pieces and retooled multiple times but the casing was the same.

I walked back to our bedroom, opening the machine and booting it up as my skin began to feel too tight across my bones. I briefly reached my hand down to touch my dick, trying to relieve some of the pressure that had built up but without attaining too much pleasure and I controlled myself enough to remove it again to open up the internet and find something that would stimulate me.

There were certain things I knew I did not want to see so I made sure my search was refined enough to find something to my taste, my tongue running over my lips as I suddenly found them dry and didn't understand why my body was responding so acutely. There was something forbidden about this, that I was usually so satisfied with Duo that it seemed like a taboo and some kind of mental cheating. I knew he was no saint – that he would watch porn – I'd seen it on his cell phone and his own laptop but I was not used to doing this and it felt illicit.

I found a website that suited my purpose, clicking on a video of a long-haired man being bent over a desk with a guy who was nicely muscled, but not overly so, fucking him. I'd seen gay porn in the past with oiled men who were ridiculously muscled and it was not something I wanted to see – I wanted something that seemed more real – and the caption underneath proclaimed it was "guaranteed to make you cum in two minutes." Which was what I wanted. I didn't intend to tease myself after the way the anticipation had built up and I slid my hand into briefs bringing out my cock as I pressed play.

My eyes widened slightly as the video did not allow for much of an introduction and the two men were already naked and kissing, rubbing up against one another and moaning into each other's open mouths. My hand started to move, my mind helping to provide the image of the long haired man being _my _man though the man on the screen only had his hair swept back into a ponytail unlike Duo's braid.

It was then I realised one of the reason I'd selected this option rather than a shower and jerking off. My fantasies were silent and one thing I had learnt over the years of fucking Duo Maxwell was that it was damn difficult to keep him quiet even when at times I needed to – when we were in Preventer transport vehicles, when one of us was balls deep inside the other in a public restroom and someone else walked in, when I was going down on him underneath the desk in his office while he was on a conference call with other departments. And the action was fast paced on screen, the long haired man spreading himself over the desk and moaning as fingers prepared him roughly, moaning that he needed to be fucked _now _by the big hard cock of his partner.

It sounded like the sort of dirty talk Duo used when he was especially horny and needy. I increased my pace over my dick, finding my eyes closing to slits yet still watching the action, merging the fucking on my laptop with my many memories of Duo.

I knew I was close, used my other hand to massage my balls, used my thumb to tease the slit and the men on the screen were reaching climax, the long haired man panting and shouting encouragement to his partner loudly as he was pounded hard.

It was then I found my hand stop and my eyes fully open, my head turning as I heard a cough.

Duo was stood in the doorway of our bedroom, his Preventer jacket removed, his shirt half open and a smirk on his face that looked particularly dangerous. I realised in my distraction and with his superior stealth skills I had missed his return – much earlier than anticipated.

I could hear the men on the screen moaning louder as Duo looked at the scene of me on our bed, his blue eyes predatory.

"Hey honey, I'm home."


	2. Duo

**Duo**

Let me tell ya, the last thing you expect to hear when you walk into your apartment after an exhausting week away is some dude moaning about needing to be fucked. It wasn't that I didn't trust 'Ro, it's just, you know, it's been a week and it was damn disconcerting after pushing your team to leave instead of spending the night so you could be home early.

But it quickly occurred to me the voice was too distant to actually be there so I snuck into our bedroom, curiosity piqued. Heero had never shown much interest in porn and he no reason to hide it from me, knew I indulged when he was working late and I failed to talk him into a little desk sex or a blow job or whatever. So the image of him with his briefs stretched down his thighs, one hand on his dick and the other down said briefs, fondling his balls while some dudes moaned on his laptop screen well... What can I say? I was pretty damned amused.

He didn't even _notice_ me so he musta been pretty damn absorbed in whatever was going on there and I coughed to get his attention, guilty eyes immediately meeting my own.

"Just couldn't wait, eh?" I teased as his face flushed. "I was only going to be a 'nother few hours."

"But I –" he sputtered and I walked forward, turned his laptop to face me and watched as fingers gripped long hair and pressed the man's face into the desk beneath him.

"You wanna do that to me?" I inquired and despite my exhaustion I felt myself damn getting hard with 'Ro all ready and waiting for me and two dudes fucking quite desperately right in front of me and just... fuck but it was good to be home

"I think I have done that to you," he said as his eyes looked back at the screen critically and I laughed. Always so damn literal.

I straddled his lap then, resting lightly on his legs, putting my hands on his chest, stroking one collarbone with my fingertips and feeling him shiver as the laptop got moved to the floor outta harms way.

"Is that what you wanna do to me right _now_...?"

He was staring into my eyes with this... this damn _intensity_ that was all Heero – that was danger and lust and the reason I just couldn't fucking get enough of him, the reason I was hard right now despite really just wanting a bath and some liquor and okay, maybe a blow job, but fuck – do you _know_ how damn good 'Ro is at blow jobs?

"No," he murmured as he placed a hand on either one of my cheeks and pulled me down into a blistering kiss.

There really was no moderation with Heero – he was all hot or all cold and now – now he was _hot_, so damn hot and I felt the heat from his mouth shift into my gut and I was quickly forgetting about my exhaustion and only thinking about the past six days without him, the stress of the mission and how I wanted it out of my system, _now_, and how he fucked me before I left, with his mouth all over me and fucking hell... Whatever. I needed this too.

And I think he knew it as his hands slid down my body to my ass, grabbing it with bruising force, pressing me closer to him and I needed that. Needed the pain. Needed to get the stress out and my own fingers dug into his pecs, running bright red lines down his skin.

I moaned, loud, as his teeth found my neck and sucked kisses I knew would leave marks down it but fuck if I cared. He would be littered with them by the time this was over.

"You taste like sweat and gunpowder," he whispered as his tongue lapped at my neck, soothing the bites and I tilted my hips into his, those words making me desperate for the pressure.

"You like it," I accused and he growled, shoving me down onto the bed and yanking off my shirt. But I was laughing at him because he was all trapped in his briefs and I slid them off his ass with teasing fingers. He sat up on his knees, moving away from me, unbuckling my belt and yanking down my pants and boxers at the same time.

Then he stood and stared at my body as he slipped off his own briefs, inspecting every damn inch of me as if I might be broken somehow. His fingers just barely touched my hip but they curled away, hesitant, and I saw this dark look in his eyes and I knew I had to get him out of it right the fuck then before I lost him.

I grabbed his fingers and rolled onto my side, yanking on his arm and forcing him to meet my eyes.

"I'm okay," I told him, searching his eyes for some understanding. "I'm okay. I didn't do nothing dumb, I played it straight, not a scratch on me. I'm here and I'm okay." He blinked and then he was back with me and he dropped his eyes a little shyly.

"On your stomach," he commanded as he dug in the nightstand and I laughed.

"You know how I feel about orders," I said and he threw me back an irritated look so I complied, not feeling fit to argue. "If I fall asleep on you, don't say I didn't warn ya..."

But then he was straddling my legs and I felt his dick pressed against my ass but he shifted my braid over my shoulder and poured lube down my back instead. I looked over my shoulder with a skeptical glance but he simply slid his hands through it, fingers trailing down my back and he began massaging me in the best fucking possible way. Shit.

"Fucking hell," I groaned, muffled into the pillow. "Feels damn good."

With each stroke I felt my stress melt away until I was left tired and horny and I didn't need the pain any more. I just needed to be utterly, thoroughly fucked. My hips were rocking against the bed to create friction and I was moaning softly into the pillow, eyes closed, just revelling in the sensation of Heero's hands all over me, moving down my back, lower and lower until...

When his fingers slid into me I buried my face in the pillow and choked out a moan, feeling like him just finger fucking me would be enough right now as my hips sought out to pull him in deeper.

"'Ro, _please_," I pleaded and felt him grind to a halt, heard his shallow panting, knowing damn well how he came undone when I asked like _that_.

He slid into me slowly until he was resting on me, his full weight on my back, his fingers lacing in my own, holding them above my head. His hips moved leisurely, sliding in and out at a maddening pace, dick rubbing against my prostate so it felt like electricity moving through me with every thrust. And his breath was hot in my ear, nose nuzzling it, his little sighs of pleasure driving me fucking insane, causing me to moan out desperate replies. This wasn't typically how we did shit after a mission – this wasn't frantic, wasn't trying to fuck out the stress or whatever – this was borderline romantic, maybe his way of thanking me for coming back but fuck. Whatever. It was good.

"I won't last," he whispered, his whole body trembling and my hips moved more frantically against the bed. I felt him reaching down and I lifted them up a little so he could wedge his hand between, fingers curling around my cock. Gasping, whimpering I felt myself close when he bit into my shoulder, whole body tensing over me. Hearing my own name from his lips as they moved against my shoulder and a few rough tugs had me coming against sheets, tensing down on him until he was shuddering and clutching me to his chest, forced to pull out.

I laughed breathlessly as he rolled me out of my own cum, our bodies stuck together with lube but his mouth pressed against my neck and neither of us cared.

"In a minute, if you want a shower, I'll wash your hair," he offered quietly, breath moving the loose tendrils of it to tickle my neck.

"Thanks babe," I murmured back, truly appreciative as exhaustion set in once more and my limbs felt heavy and although I wanted to be free of sweat and lube, the idea of washing my hair seemed damn miserable. "Oughta just hack it."

"No," he replied softly and I smiled.

"Sorry you hadda revert to porn," I teased as I rested my hands over his, squeezing them.

"It was stupid," he muttered back between kisses. "Managed a whole week and the last day..."

I frowned and glanced back over my shoulder at him. "You went a whole week without...? Shit."

"I missed you," he replied, meeting my eyes and I grinned and shifted my ass playfully against his hips.

"Sure ya did," I joked, giving him a quick kiss before settling back in his arms a moment. "You missed my ass."

"I missed every part of you," he breathed, arms tensing around me and warmth spread through my body in a completely different way.

I knew it was true – because I missed him, too.


End file.
